


You know how stressful the holidays can get

by FictionIsntReal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Family Dinners, Gen, Mental Breakdown, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1459795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionIsntReal/pseuds/FictionIsntReal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abel Gideon's last dinner with the in-laws.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You know how stressful the holidays can get

**Author's Note:**

> What little we know of Abel Gideon's massacre of his family would make us expect him to be in prison rather than a mental institution. Chilton claims that he wasn't insane at the moment he killed his wife, but that killing her drove him insane. This is an imagining of how that went down.

And I suppose that's my fault too? Don't give me that feigned offense. Your parents couldn't possibly lower their opinions any more than they already have. Isn't that right? You two get a positively delightful tingle of schadenfreude seeing this spectacle. "I told you he was no good" you say. Don't try to deny it, that's just what you said they said after we first met! By no means can everything that comes out of your daughter's mouth be believed, but the ring of truth sometimes builds into a goddamn symphony. Yeah, and whose idea was it to have them over? Utterly predictable. You're a damn masochist, is what you are. Not enough that you have to make a trainwreck of our own lives, bring in as many onlookers as possible. Oh. Very mature. You know who's cleaning that up, and I can give you a hint that it's not me. Oh, I'll put the down the knife all right, I'll put it down in your fucking neck if you don't watch it.  
  
...  
  
  
Shutupshutupshutup you old bastard, you have done nothing but complain the whole day. A day you're supposed to give some fucking thanks. You could at least whimper instead of moaning so loudly - oh, excuse me, I'll get the door. Don't bother getting up, dear, I'm sure it's your sister. She's always so late, I told you she wouldn't actually cancel.  
  
Hello, hello, nice to see you two again. Come on in, don't just stand there, the turkey's still warm but getting colder by the minute. Excuse the mess, there's been many a slip twixt cup and lip, haha. Oh, I should have asked before I started cutting, white or dark meat? Oh, I see, this one won't do at all. Honey, do we have any clean knives? And didn't I tell you both to come in? Put down the phone, no phones during dinner, have some goddamn manners. Ah, and where are mine, let me pull out some chairs for you. The polite thing is to excuse yourself, not bugger off with nary a word, I really insist you stay long enough for everyone to say goodbye. Well I guess they're canceling after all, are you happy now?


End file.
